The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [74]
“Fifteen hours, twenty-three minutes-” Data paused, then continued hurriedly, “And five seconds.”
Riker was too busy thinking to cut Data off. A lot could happen in fifteen hours. “Increase speed to warp seven.”
“Warp seven,” confirmed Data, and the ship responded with an almost imperceptible shudder.
The captain would feel it though. This time Riker hit the com link before Picard could demand an explanation. “Captain, request your presence on the bridge.”
Chapter Sixteen
DR. CRUSHER WAS the last member of the crew to receive a summons. She rubbed at sleep-weary eyes and tried to make sense of the tableau on the bridge. A full crew complement was assembled. Worf and Yar were hunched over the tactical console, too caught up in their observations to acknowledge the doctor’s entrance. They worked with the concentration typical of an alert status. With growing unease, Crusher walked down to the command center, where the captain stood huddled in discussion with Riker and Andrew Deelor. Both Geordi and Data were at the forward stations.
Picard looked up at her approach and broke off his conversation with the other men. He had waited until the last minute before calling the doctor, allowing her to get as much rest as possible, but it was time for her to learn what had happened. She was the only medical officer with the proper security clearance for the work ahead.
Crusher studied the image on the main viewer-a beige planet streaked with pale green bands. “New Oregon? We’re ahead of schedule.”
“Yes,” said Picard. “There’s been a problem.”
“Problem? What kind of problem?”
“We believe the colony was attacked.”
The flat tone of Picard’s voice should have alerted Crusher to what was coming, but her mind rejected the implications. “Why have I been called to the bridge? I should be down on the planet with my medical team.”
Riker opened his mouth to reply, but the captain silenced him with an uplifted hand. Picard preferred to break the news himself. “It’s too late for any medical assistance, Dr. Crusher.”
“No survivors?” Stunned, she sank down onto a chair. An exhaustion of spirit as well as body swept over her. Sickbay had already been prepared for the upcoming medical check of the colony’s Federation workers, over twenty terraform engineers, mechanics, and technicians. “All of them dead?”
Picard forestalled any false hope. “There are no life signs left on the planet surface. Even the vegetation is dying.” By the time Geordi La Forge had brought the Enterprise into orbit around New Oregon, sensor scans had proven that the need for urgency had passed. The radio bands would continue to be silent.
“How? Why?” Crusher asked, then found the answer for herself in Andrew Deelor’s presence. “The Choraii.”
“Possibly,” said Picard. “Data detected a faint trace of organic particles on the outskirts of the solar system. The evidence is still circumstantial, but highly suggestive. We won’t know for certain until the away team has checked the surface.”
Data turned from his ops console. “I have established transporter coordinates for both the terraforming station and the Farmer outpost. What is left of them. I sorted through considerable scattered rubble for a clear spot that would accommodate a landing party.” He pointed to an ominous red patch on his sensor screen. “And weather conditions will be quite harsh. The atmosphere-control fields have failed.”
“Two teams,” ordered Picard briskly. “One to each location.” One of the hardest lessons of command had been to accept the away team as a substitute for his own presence, to use it as his eyes and ears and hands. Riker would quote safety as the reason for keeping the captain on the bridge, but Picard had come to realize that he usually could do his job better at a distance, calling alternately on the resources of his ship or the mission crew.
Riker quickly assembled the first group. “Data, Yar, check out the Farmers’ settlement.”
The designated